


Strength over Fear

by drhealmd



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5154242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drhealmd/pseuds/drhealmd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A loose retelling of Jude Watson's Jedi Apprentice. I hope to have changed it enough for it to be its own story (mainly more dicks).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crystalized Twilight](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Crystalized+Twilight).



Gasping breaths, shuffling feet, and humming lightsabers echoed loudly across the otherwise cold and quiet halls of the lowest level of the Jedi temple on Coruscant. Sparring in the center of the worn atrium were two young boys, Jedi Initiates, both of whom were fighting as if their lives depended on them winning. Even though the reason for the sparring session was because of a childish quarrel, full of emotion and thoughts of revenge, they both were currently focused on the other, completely in a world of their own. 

The older boy, who was primarily on the offensive, was named Bruck Chun. He was a human initiate who had bleached hair, icy-blue eyes, and always seemed to have an arrogant sneer set into his features. Even at his age, the young man’s attacks were staggering and unrelenting in their pursuit. 

Against him was another student, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The younger man was accustomed to the all-out assault that Chun was showing him. This was not the first time to two boys had butted heads with one another. With practiced movements, Obi-Wan successfully blocked and parried each attack that came his way. However, the battle was taking a toll on him, his brown hair sticking wetly to his brow as his blue eyes glared towards his opponent in defiance.

It was Bruck’s fault that we’re in this mess, Obi-Wan told himself. The brunette bit the inside of his cheek as the hum of his challenger’s lightsaber swept close to the left side of his face. The older male was always pushing his buttons, always making his forget his teachings, and frankly, Bruck was so easy to blame. 

No. Obi-Wan mentally shook his head. He shouldn’t push all of this onto one person, it was not the Jedi way. He should have been able to control his emotions and not given into the antagonizing statements. Bruck got exactly what he wanted when Obi-Wan attacked him in return. Gritting his teeth, he ducked his head to avoid another slash from his classmate, hoping that his defenses would outlast the onslaught against him.

The rubber soles of their boots skidded across the worn stone floor in protest as the boys continued to spar. Neither of them had landed a solid hit, only singeing the brown tunics that loosely covered their bodies. The lightsabers were made for initiates like them. They didn’t have the power that Master Jedi’s wielded, but they still stung. The pain was not what each of them feared, pain was fleeting. What they feared was the very reason that the two age-mates were fighting so passionately. This was their last chance to leave the temple as Padawans. If either of them failed now, in these last moments, they would never be able to follow their dreams to become Jedi.

Standing along the sidelines, two Masters, the wise Yoda and the maverick Qui-Gon Jinn, let their trained eyes linger on the younglings, judging their footwork and form. This trial was for their eyes alone. Yoda had suggested it, knowing that the initiates needed to have this sort of closure before they departed from the temple. He also knew that Qui-Gon had been without a Padawan for almost a decade and would gain much from having one under his care.

“Well trained, these boys are.” Yoda stated, turning his gaze toward his guest, hopeful that his friend would choose one of the boys. If he did not, then they would both have to leave the temple and join the Jedi Service Corps. It would be a shame, the two boys had so much potential.

“Good companion, one would make.” There was a twinkling in the humanoid’s eyes, but his words fell upon deaf ears. Qui-Gon was watching with mild interest, but he was in no mood to take on another apprentice. He wasn’t angry at Yoda for trying to convince him; it wasn’t good for a Master to be without a student for so long. After his last Padawan, Xanathos, had turned to the dark side, he doubted that he could ever teach again. It had been almost a decade, but even after all this time the cut was still fresh. These boys were very skilled, but the whole reason they were in this situation was because of unchecked emotions. Qui-Gon didn’t want to deal with those who couldn’t even follow the basics of becoming a Jedi. 

“You have trained them well, Master Yoda, but a worthy Padawan is not solely based on how well they wield a weapon.” His eyes still remained on the two who were still thrusting, lunging, and deflecting attacks as they circled each other. He could tell that this was not the first time Bruck and Obi-Wan had met each other in combat.

“I sense a great amount of emotion between them.” The brunette sighed, crossing one arm over the other. 

“Rivals since they arrived here, both young Obi-Wan and Bruck have been. Important for them, this battle is.” The small Master watched as the two initiates as they reversed their roles. Bruck had to take up the defensive to block and dodge Obi-Wan’s attacks. 

“Different were you, when you were young?” Yoda closed his eyes, his normally un-phased expression holding back a smile, already knowing the answer. He had been with the taller Jedi when he was in training, he remembered just how emotional the other could be. The human let out a small huff at the question, not wanting to admit the obvious truth behind it or that he had no reason to deny one of these boys a chance to be a Padawan. The bearded man chose silence, the initiates drawing his focus again. He hoped, more than he would like to admit, that either of them would show a major flaw, something, anything that would give him a reason to defer his selection.

The two young men were circling each other again, the younger pressing forward to keep his advantage. The brunette felt at ease as he gained ground. It had almost been nearly an hour. Surely Bruck’s strength would be declining, as long as he continued his offensive, Obi-Wan felt that he may be victorious. Suddenly, Bruck turned on his heel and changed his momentum, and his light-saber harshly slammed against his opponents. Obi-Wan was not prepared and was taken completely by surprise. He was able to pull his arms up to block, but his weight was not behind it because he had been in mid-stride. With a grunt the younger man fell backwards, the hard stone bruising his backside.

“On your ass again Oafy-Wan?” Bruck sneered as he saw the other’s hand tighten around his weapon, moving his own lightsaber to point in the center of the brunette’s chest in warning. 

“Don’t call me that.” A warning of his own that passed soft and stern over panting lips. Obi-Wan was tired of being bullied by Bruck. The mixture of embarrassment from falling in front of their Masters and anger at Bruck being an arrogant asshole caused wild emotions to bubble to the surface.

“Oafy-Wan! Oafy-Wan! Oafy-Wan!” The older boy taunted loudly, waving his lightsaber in the other male’s face, showing just how much power he had over Obi-Wan. As far as the bleached-haired initiate was concerned, he had won. 

“I wonder why the Order even dug you up out of that Stewjon shit hole. How did you ever think you could beat me?” He had no qualms boasting, he was sure he going to become a Padawan to Qui-Gon. 

Obi-Wan saw red as he was ridiculed in front of the two Masters. He couldn’t let Bruck win. He wanted to have a Master. He needed to become a Jedi. Anger fueling his actions, the brunette shoved his left hand forward, feeling a power that he had never experienced before. Bruck, who had been standing over him, dominating his vision, was force pushed with such a velocity that he slammed with a sickening thud against the stone wall behind him over sixty feet away.

The two initiates were stunned. Bruck slid down the wall, air was ripped from his lungs as he struggled to remember how to breathe. He crumbled into an uncomfortable heap on the floor as his weapon turned off and lay discarded next to him. Obi-Wan’s blue eyes were wide with disbelief and confusion as he looked down at his still raised hand, then to his opponent, and back again. He had been able to force-push objects before, most initiates learned the skill at a young age. This was completely different. The strength behind it was undeniable, but the dark and uneasy feeling that had accompanied it held him frozen in place.

For long seconds, they both sat, breathing heavily. It was Obi-Wan who moved first, turning off the power to his light-saber then shifting onto his hands and knees before standing. Cautiously, the young boy closed the distance between himself and his classmate, fearing that he had actually done serious damage and there would be consequences to follow. Only a few feet away from the injured Bruck, the brunette knelt, reaching out to see if there was anyway that he could help. Yes, he had wanted to win, but he had wanted it to be a clean fight, something that he could be proud of. Not this.

“Bruck?” His voice was small and quiet compared to how venomous it had been just a few moments before. The tips of his fingers brushed against the blonde’s arm, trying to get some sort of response he was used to. The older boy was still balled up, groaning and shuddering as his lungs and body fought him against the pain. Obi-Wan gripped the initiate’s arm, giving it a shake, his concern rising.

“Don’t touch me!” Against the throbbing torment, Bruck was able to push himself up, launching himself at Obi-Wan, causing both boys returning to the ground. The older initiate climbed on top of the brunette, his eyes glazed over with rage as he pulled his right arm back, level to his head.

“You fucking piece of shit!” The blonde’s hand shot forward, connecting with the side of Obi-Wan’s face. The younger man scrambled his own hands up to try and defend himself, wiggling under Bruck in hopes to throw him off balance.

“Come on, Oafy! You should at least put up a fight before they throw you out of the temple!” Another blow, one that split the brunette’s lip.

“Enough, that is!” Yoda’s voice encompassed the room, bringing a halt to the petty squabble he was witnessing. The small, green humanoid was ashamed at how his two students were acting and how the match had turned from skillful to childish. Qui-Gon Jinn looked disappointed as well. 

“You saw what he did!” Bruck stood, pointing a finger accusingly at his age-mate. His fury made it easy for him to forget about his pain. Obi stopped struggling and dared not move under the weight of the other boy, half because he didn’t want to give Bruck a reason to hit him again, and half because of the gaze he was receiving from the Masters. 

“What you did as well, we saw.” Yoda stating knowingly as he gestured to the exit of the atrium. 

It was over, their fates had been decided. 

Bruck barred his teeth and threw his classmate one more glare. His fist was wavering in the air, and he was tempted to cave Obi-Wan’s skull in for this unfavorable outcome, but he stood up in a huff and left the the chamber. 

The younger initiate didn’t move until he could no longer hear the angry stomping of his rival. When he stood and situated himself, he kept his head tilted down in hopes of having his bangs cover his face and his shame. Obi-Wan bowed to both of the Masters, picked up his initiate's lightsaber and exited the atrium, struggling to hold back the tears from escaping his eyes. The brunette was able to make it back to his room before he collapsed, back against his door, sobbing. All his teachings stood no match against the pure, unbridled sadness that came with the knowledge that he failed his test in front of both Master Yoda and Master Qui-Gon Jinn. There was no way that Master Qui-Gon would ask him to be his Padawan. He has blown his last chance.

Wiping the streaming tears from his face the young man focused on leveling out his breaths and regaining control of his emotions. That was what got him into this mess in the first place, no need for it to make things even worse. Though, Obi-Wan couldn’t see how that was possible. He crawled up onto his bed and sat with his legs crossed and his back straight against the wall, eyes closed, and began to meditate. The brunette did his best to push any thoughts that revolved around his recent failures or Bruck out of his mind so he could focus on the good of what happened instead. At least he held his own against a skill opponent. That had to have some significance. He did this until he was able to peacefully fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Early the next morning Obi-Wan begrudgingly blinked his eyes open as the sound of a alarm went off next to his bed. He leaned forward to turn it off, his body reminding him how unwise it had been to fall asleep while meditating with a few popping joints and overall soreness. The young man had slept fairly well, even with what happened yesterday.

Yesterday.

The sadness that trickled into his body eclipsed the pain from his aching muscles, but Obi-Wan didn’t have to dwell on it for very long. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flashing light at his terminal across the small room, indicating there was a message waiting for him. It could be anything, but maybe, just maybe, it was from Master Yoda or Qui-Gon. Hope bubbled in chest as he stretched out his long legs, waiting until he regained feeling in them before standing. It only took a few steps to cross the room. He pushed a few of the buttons under the screen to access the message.

How quickly that hope faded as his eyes read over the digital text. No, no… It wasn’t a message from Master Yoda or Qui-Gon. It was from the Council indicating him of his re-assignment into the Agri-Corps.

He was to be a farmer, not a Padawan. 

He was assigned to the barge ship The Monument, which would be leaving later in the afternoon and dropping him off at a rim planet called Bandomeer.

The sadness returned, hollow inside his chest where the hope had been only moments before. All he could do was stare at the terminal mounted on the wall in front of him, his eyes distant. He should just wait in his room until it was time to go. He couldn’t dare show his face during meal time.

A knocking at Obi-Wan’s door broke him out of his daze.

“Come in!” There weren’t any locks on initiate’s doors for there should be nothing for them to hide from their fellows or their Masters. At the same time it was considered very rude to enter someone else’s room without being invited. As long as it wasn’t Bruck he didn’t care much.

A small salmon skinned girl opened the door, peeking her head in with a small smile on her lips. Her name was Bant and she had been friends with Obi-Wan since the day she was brought to the temple. He was older than the Mon Calamari by a few years and acted as a big brother towards her. They would share stories of their home planets and spend most of their free time together. She enjoyed swimming, naturally as her planet was mostly water, and Obi-wan would chase her around the large pool in the lower levels of the temple. Just thinking about all the fun they had enjoyed made the young human smile, only to sour to a frown once he remembered he was leaving.

“I heard about your reassignment.” Her voice sounded like it was being muffled by water, but years of listening to Bant made it sound clear as day. Obi-Wan didn’t respond but his expression spoke for him. Instantly he was squeezed tight as Bant hugged him. Her green robes were slightly damp and they smelled of sea water due to the mist in her room. He had always been able to find comfort with her.

“Bruck and I were asked to spar… It didn’t go as planned…” Obi-Wan managed to mumble as his friend loosened her hold. Gently he removed her fully so he could turn and start packing, deciding what would stay and what would go. 

“He didn’t break the rules did he?” She put her hands on her hips. This wouldn’t be the first time Bruck had pulled such a stunt.

“No. It was me…” The human let out a long breath as he placed a few clothes into a sack, shaking his head for a moment. “I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“I’m sorry Obi-Wan, I know how important becoming a Jedi Knight was to you.” Bant’s fingers fidgeted with the end of her sleeves. “There are plenty of ways you can serve by joining the Agri-Corps” She said optimistically but he wasn’t convinced. No one that trained to become a Jedi would ever be satisfied being a farmer. 

Obi-Wan quickly found out that he had finished packing and was just moving things around to act like he had something to do. Most Jedi didn’t not have many valuables, it was frowned upon to take ownership of items, and necessities were handled by the temple. He did have a few books and model starships that hung from his ceiling that would have to be placed in safekeeping before he left. He tried to look busy, he didn’t want to leave his room.

“You should say bye to Garen and Reeft.” Bant suggested, knowing that her friend was trying to avoid the other younglings and all the gossip, while also understanding this might be the last chance for the human to see them. There was a long minute where the amphibian was so sure he would tell her no, but knew she won when Obi-Wan let out a little huff in defeat. Bant took his hand and led them both out of the human’s room to the dining hall. He had never been able to tell her no.

The metal halls were empty and illuminated brightly. Everyone was already in the dining hall enjoying the first meal of the day, exactly what Obi-Wan feared. There would be no way to escape the rumors surrounding his reassignment. Tension gripped his gut as they entered.

The dining hall was a large space where almost all of the stationed Jedi could come and enjoy a warm meal. The ceiling was tall and held up by solid metal columns. At the far end of the room the Masters congregated near expansive windows that opened up to a view of Coruscant and the numerous towering buildings. Obi-Wan tried not to look, in case Yoda or Qui-Gon would catch his eye.

Bant pulled him to the line of people, shuffling forward. They each grabbed a tray of food before scanning the great hall for their other friends Garen and Reeft, who were both waving their hands frantically in the air to get their attention. The two boys had been inseparable since they arrived here, even though their home planets were on opposite sides of the galaxy.

Bant finally let go of Obi-Wan’s hand, skittering off to sit across from the two other humanoids, patting the space next to her. He couldn’t help but mentally wince as he followed after the amphibian to sit next to her in the center of the hall, not surprised to see Reeft already pleading for some of Bant’s food. “If it isn’t a bother, may Reeft have some of your apple?” The smaller of the two boys spoke, happily taking some of Ban’t apple when she nodded. Reeft had an insatiable appetite, but he was always polite when asking. It was almost shocking how much extra food he managed to eat with a few simple kind words. 

Obi-Wan looked down at his food with distaste, his gut still twisted in knots. While his three friends were conversing with each other he could feel eyes linger on him and swore he heard his name being whispered from the other younglings around him. One voice stood out amongst the others, louder and much more irritating.

Bruck.

The blond wasn’t trying to hide his intentions. He sat with his own friends, more like goons, expressing his pleasure that Obi-Wan would be leaving today, how the temple was a better place without him, how trash like him were only meant to be farmers. Others joined in, hissing rumors, some of them true some of them false, which spread like wildfire from one student to the next.

Obi-Wan stared at his plate, his ears turning red as he did his best to block out the words swirling around him. He tried to act as though his food was the most interesting thing in the world, but he still couldn’t manage to take a bite. His friends looked on with concern but followed suit, ignoring Bruck as well. They had all been picked on, losing Obi-Wan to the Agri-Corps was a loss for them all. 

“I’m not all that hungry…” Obi-Wan spoke just loud enough for Bant, Garen, and Reeft to hear, pushing his tray forward for the others to share. He figured it would make Reeft happy at least. He stood and raised his hand to stop Bant from standing with him. 

“I’m fine. You finish your breakfast, I am going to check what time I leave…” The young man’s voice stuck on the last word. Obi-Wan knew what time The Monument was leaving and he had already packed his belongings he just couldn’t stand it in here any longer. Before he could take his first step he was surrounded by three pairs of arms, squeezing the air from his lungs. Bant, Garen, and even Reeft, who was passing up free food, hugged him in earnest, realizing it may be a very long time before they saw each other again. None of them said a word and the hug felt like it was over before it started. 

Obi-Wan left with a forced smile tugging at his lips. He was never good at goodbyes.

As heartbroken as he was to leave his friends, the relief that the quiet halls brought him was a much needed blessing. He just had to get out of there, he couldn’t fight Bruck, not again, not when the disgrace from his reassignment was still fresh. As wrong as it felt to run from what was troubling him, at least he wasn’t being scolded for doing it.

His feet took him down the halls towards his room, rounding a corner to come face to face with someone he was sure he wouldn’t be seeing again: Master Qui-Gon. The older man was having a conversation with another Master, one Obi-Wan had only seen in passing. The initiate paused, but resumed walking, not wanting to seem rude or like he was trying to listen in on their conversation. He didn’t know what he would say to the other if noticed. It had been bad enough being shipped off to the outer rim and that everyone at the temple knew of it as well. Did he really have to run into the man who had a part in deciding his fate? 

The door to his room was in sight, he could make it.

“Youngling Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Qui-Gon’s voice stopped him, as much as the younger man wished to go inside his room, he remained. The Master moved with strong grace, his presence commanding attention as he silently stepped forward.

“Yes, Master Qui-Gon?” The initiate turned, his face blank, unsure about how he should feel or what the other wished to speak to him about. Even now there was hope that Qui-Gon would tell him the one thing his heart dreamed of, but he had a feeling that there was a slim chance at best.

“Yesterday, after the duel I didn’t have time to ask you...” Qui-Gon’s voice was as steady and bold as his character. His words only flared the hope buried in the younger man whose eyes widened in anticipation. “... where you learned to fight so aggressively.”

Hopes destroyed.

“Oh, I... umm…”The youngling stammered taken aback by the older man’s question, expecting something else. He did his best to hide his disappointment. “I saw an advantage so I did my best to take it.” The confidence in his voice would have been able to fool his friends, but not the Master.

“When fighting an equal opponent you should wear them down, not yourself. Especially one who is equal to you in strength. You can’t depend on your enemy to defend when you attack. You must fight with your mind, not with your raw strength.” It was a valuable lesson, one that Obi-Wan had heard from Yoda many times before. One that he forgot every time Bruck stood against him.

“Thank you Master Qui-Gon. I will take your words to heart.” His voice was soft and there was desperately something he wanted to say now that they were together, without any other outside forces influencing them. Why should he hold back his thoughts? Wouldn’t it be better if he was honest? “If you were to take me as your Padawan, there is much that you could teach me.”

Silence.

“Obi Wan…” The Master started, his eyes closed as he shook his head as a dismissal. He opened his mouth to continue but the youngling had already turned around.

“I am sorry for asking Master Jinn… I don’t want you to think that I don’t respect your wishes it’s just…” His sorrow was rushing from him in waves and pretending that he was okay with the answer he received was more difficult than he imagined. Obi Wan knew that reacting this way was only cementing the ideas that the other has of him. Proving Qui Gon right was enough to cause him to take a deep breath in and turn around. Sure, his eyes were a little wet, but the turmoil that had been a storm inside of him had calmed and was now under his control. He recognized his emotions and removed those that were hindering him. 

“Thank you for agreeing to watch Bruck and I spar. I am leaving today and must finish packing. ” The youngling bowed and remained as tranquil as he could manage. “May the force be with you.” He spoke softly before turning and escaping to his room

“May the force be with you.” Qui Gon echoed back, a small amount of surprise on his face. This was not how Bruck had reacted when he had visited the teenager earlier this morning. Based on the way the two boys were fighting yesterday he was sure that they would have both taken his dismissal badly, but Obi Wan took it in stride. Yes, he was still upset, but nothing compared to the red-faced Bruck he had witnessed. 

Maybe he had made a mistake, surely with some training Obi Wan could become…

No. Qui Gon turned and headed toward his own rooms on the other side of the temple. He would not teach someone who had so much aggression inside of them. He was not ready.


	3. Chapter 3

Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes, squinting from the harsh lights above him. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? The youngling shifted where he lay to get a better look around, but the small movement caused a sharp pain to shoot up his spine. 

Okay, he was more hurt than he thought. He would have to be more careful. 

The next time that Obi-Wan moved it was slow and calculated, not wanting to put his body under more stress. He turned his head to try and fill in the gaps in his memory. If he was at the Temple it was in a room he had never accessed before. It was small, he could tell that even with a cloth divider surrounding most of his metal cot. The dark metal of the walls and ceilings that were dotted with rust and wear lead him to believe he was certainly not at the temple. There was also a low hum that seemed to surround the space. 

Was he on a ship?

He was able to sit up and shuffle his legs over the side of his little bed. It was then he noticed that he was not in his regular tan and brown tunics. Instead, he was wrapped in a stark white robe that was a few sizes too big for him. 

Where were his clothes? More importantly, where was his lightsaber?

Quickly, forgetting that it would hurt, he frantically searched for his lightsaber only to find it under some of the covers. He was always told that his lightsaber was his life, having it back in his hand eased some of the apprehension of the situation.

Obi-Wan’s relief was short-lived as he heard the metal creak of a nearby door opening and saw a figure move on the other side of the cloth divider. There wasn’t much he could do to defend himself, but he held his lightsaber under the sheets, waiting to turn it on depending on the threat.

To his surprise, a young woman walked into his view. She didn’t look menacing. If anything she looked happy that the boy was awake. He took as much information in about her as he could by just looking at her but everything was still hazy.

“Look who decided to join us.” She ran a hand through her auburn hair as her green eyes settled on him, checking over him with tiny movements. “You must have done something to piss off the Hutts.”

“The Hutts?” Sure, he had heard of them, somewhere, most likely the temple, but what did that have to do with what was happening now? He had never met a Hutt.

“They must have hit your head pretty hard. They are difficult to forget.” She sat on the edge of his cot and crossed one leg over the other, the position almost impossible in her oversized orange worksuit. There was a green triangle patch on the left side, a symbol Obi-Wan remembered seeing before.

“You are with the…” The young man had to pause to think, his head a little scrambled.

“Arcona Mineral Harvest Corporation.” She pointed to the green triangle which the other had been focusing on. “I’m Clat’Ha, Chief of Operations Manager.” The tone of her voice made it seem like she was very proud of the title. “I found you outside the ship before we took off, which was about five hours ago. I am surprised you are awake.”

Obi-Wan could only shrug his shoulders which was enough to cause him pain. He couldn’t remember anything after packing up his things this morning and the few minutes he had been awake in this room. A million questions were buzzing in his head but it was strenuous to focus on a single one. Everything was a muddy mess.

“Are you one of ours?” Clat’Ha’s voice was gentle, but even in his state he could tell that there was something eating at her thoughts. It was like the force was telling him that something was wrong but he just couldn’t understand the language.

“No I’m a…”No, he wasn’t a youngling anymore. That fact cut through easily enough. “I’m with the Agricultural Corps, my name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The new title still stung. 

“You’re the young Jedi they have been looking for!” The older woman’s sudden reaction almost startled him into turning his lightsaber on. Clat’Ha actually seemed happy to have found him and that he was alive at least. Wait. Who was looking for him?

“They?” The brunette questioned, letting his hand fall from his weapon onto the flimsy mattress beneath it. 

“Yes. There are a few crew members looking for you. They were starting to think that you missed the departure or worse.” The auburn haired woman gave him a quick once over. “Though, in this case, worse might have actually happened.” She stood and brushed herself off. “I can go and get them if you would like?”

“Do you mind taking me with you?” Obi-Wan straightened his back and carefully swung his legs around to stand, hiding the wave of pain that followed. “I am tired of this room.” Though his body protested he knew that this might be his only chance to get some answers and find somewhere that felt a little more safe.

Clat’Ha looked skeptical as the other shakily prepared himself to stand. She had heard rumors of a Jedi’s ability to quickly heal themselves and their ability to cast all sorts of magics, so for all she knew Obi-Wan could take care of himself.

“Sure, do you want some help?” She questioned just to be safe as she offered her hands as support.

“I think I can make it...” With his best effort the brunette pushed himself off up the bed, ignoring every protest he muscles made and how the room began to spin. He gripped the rusted wall with white knuckles to keep himself stable, but within seconds his knees began to tremble. Still, Obi-Wan forced himself to take a step forward, only to crumble and fall back onto the cot.

The young woman sprang from her position to help but straightened when the brunette landed back onto the bed.

“I might need some help after all.” The young man tried to laugh at his own expense but all that came out was a coughing wheeze. Clat’Ha moved closer towards Obi-Wan and reached a hand out to help him up only to pause and instead touch his reddened forehead. She jolted her hand back after contacting the heated skin, worry spreading across her fair features.

“You are burning up.” She glanced at the exit to the room and back to the boy, contemplating what she should do. “Let me just get someone to help you, there is no way you are going to be able to make it even with my help.” She did her best to properly put him back into bed without causing him any more pain. Obi-Wan noted how motherly and tender her attention was, but it all seemed like a whisper as his head laid against the pillow once again.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can Obi-Wan. Try and be careful.” He was already halfway gone and the image of her auburn hair was the last thing he saw before losing consciousness. 

The black void that he fell to was not one that he was accustomed. Unlike the meditative sleep that found the young man every night, this sleep was unwilling and suffocating. Obi-wan knew, deep down, that rest was what his body needed, but that did not make it any less of a burden. 

The boy wandered in limbo. Briefly, he would see the bright, uncensored light above his cot before diving again into black. 

The increasing heat from his fever made his robes and the thin sheets of the cot unbearable, but shifting to remove either of the fabrics caused his body to scream in pain. It was an endless struggle to try and pry the sweat-dampened material from him without aggravating his body any further.

Obi-wan called out to the force in earnest to help him, anything from the fire licking at his every movement and thought, but it didn’t answer. For a moment he was sure that he heard voices around him, but they would not answer him either. They were muddled and distant.

It felt like an eternity between his ragged breaths. Each new gasp only reignited the flames consuming the brunette’s body and forced his sore, and most likely broken, ribs to expand. Tears dotted the corners of his fluttering eyes as he was tempted to surrender completely to the suffering. Anything to make it stop.

“Obi-Wan.”

The voice cut through the fog and pierced him to the very core. 

A cool, strong hand tenderly touched the brunette’s forehead and, for what felt like ages, Obi-Wan was able to breathe. He began to feel a sort of serenity that he had never imagined before. It was familiar yet nameless. Though strange and enigmatic as it was, the young man favored this new calm compared to agony he had just endured.

“Obi-Wan.”

The deep voice said the young man’s name again as if a mantra. It was stern but also kind as if it beckoned him. From it he was able to gain enough focus to call upon the force to aid in his recovery. This time the brunette was able to succeed and it felt as though all was right with the universe again.

"Good Obi-Wan. That’s it. Remember your teachings.” The voice above him sounded proud. Obi-Wan took a long breath in connected fully with the force. The heat, the pain, the confusion… it was all so distant, almost as if it had taken place years ago. For the first time since his trip began he was at peace.

Qui-Gon slowly retracted his hand once he was sure that Obi-Wan was able to maintain a hold on the force without his assistance. The boy was lucky that Clat’Ha had found the Master so quickly. If left to his own devices, Obi-Wan’s condition could have become life-threatening.

The Master leaned back against the reinforced wall behind him, one leg stretched out along the cot next to Obi-Wan while the other was bent off the side. There wasn’t enough room for both of them on the narrow bed and without any other seating in the small room this would have to do. Leaving was out of the question until the young man regained consciousness. Maybe then a few of Qui-Gon’s questions could be answered.

This whole situation was peculiar. 

If Clat’Ha was correct in telling him that a Hutt had done this, what had been the reason behind it? It wouldn’t be the first time in that a Hutt’s temper had ignited without warning, but to attack a youngling... Obi-Wan was lucky to be alive.

The older man’s turned his head to the younger who was soundly sleeping beside him as if nothing had happened. Qui-Gon knotted his brow and rubbed his bearded chin in thought.

What were the chances that he would be on the same ship to Bandomeer? It wasn’t a very popular destination. Younglings who were assigned to the Agri-Corps were more likely to stay close to Coruscant, not along the rim. The last he heard, Bandomeer was not in any dire need of new recruits. If they were, why only send one? Such an order would have had to come from...

Yoda.

Qui-Gon wasn’t sure if he should be surprised. The more he thought about it the more it made sense. Yoda knew that their missions, though different, would require both of them to be in contact with each other. However, he had made himself quite clear, he was in no position to take on another apprentice, no matter how favored the partnership was. 

As soon as Obi-Wan was recovered they would go back to their own, separate assignments and that would be that.


End file.
